The last one.

  If Seok-young's information was correct, this person would be the final one. Jihyeon swiftly evaded a fireball flying toward him and closed the distance to his opponent. Then, using his psychokinesis, he lightly subdued him.

  The man, caught by the waist and dangling in the air, struggled desperately to break free. However, the momentum he had shown while throwing fireballs just moments ago was gone; his flailing limbs now seemed strangely devoid of strength.

  "Let go! Let me go!"

  The man shouted in rage. But his voice was closer to a raspy growl, as if clogged with phlegm. Or perhaps, it was a voice from which all vitality had been drained, leaving only helplessness behind.

  Yet, the man's inexplicable anger still burned fiercely. It was remarkable, considering he was in a state almost indistinguishable from a corpse, with nearly all signs of life vanished.

  If left like this, the man would surely die. Anyone seeing him, not just Jihyeon, would naturally think so. The man's body was shriveled and dry. Looking at the pants he was wearing, it was impossible not to notice that this wasn't his original physique.

  It seemed the Tool forcibly implanted in him had converted his very life force into flames and fury.

  "It will hurt a bit, but please bear with it."

  Jihyeon spoke as he focused his consciousness. First, he checked if the implanted Tool was a booby trap, and then the extraction process began.

  Jihyeon's consciousness, like a sharp scalpel, severed the connection between the man and the Tool. Simultaneously, he absorbed every shred of information and added his own power to repair the damage to the brain.

  Fortunately, it seemed the man had been implanted only recently. The brain damage wasn't extensive, so he would recover soon.

  "I guess this is the end of it."

  Jihyeon muttered as he recovered the Tool. Now, this man had to be sent to the hospital. While the Tool controlled the body, it might have held together, but left as he was, he would die immediately. It was an emergency, so they had to hurry.

  Still, with this, everything was over.

  Jihyeon left the scene after handing the man over to the paramedics. Now it was time to help Seok-young. While it would mostly involve a one-sided transfer of data, the fatigue from working on the front lines was never easy to manage.

  As always, however, Jihyeon's heart was not at ease. Perhaps it was because he wasn't simply catching bad villains with style like a superhero in a movie. Today, in particular, the common characteristics seen in those from whom he had removed Tools weighed on him even more.

  These people were victims. They were pitiful clowns forced to dance to a destiny independent of their own will. The "Destroyer of Fate" must have found some amusement through them.

  But Jihyeon had no idea what they were after. Immediately after hearing a voice-modulated command, the victims had fallen into a state of lost consciousness and gone on a rampage.

  And they did so while plunging the entire city into chaos. If so, they must have stood to gain something, yet Jihyeon confirmed that no specific location had been raided afterward.

  The fact that he couldn't even deduce the motive behind causing such immense damage irritated him. This level of destruction demanded a price.

  He wanted to make them pay, but that was only possible once he understood the opponent's objective. To commit such atrocities while hiding their identities so thoroughly—Jihyeon felt only rage.

  Perhaps this was revenge. Revenge against Jihyeon and the police, who had nearly wiped out the Tool dealers. But that seemed unlikely. If that were the case, they would have attacked the police station directly.

  The more he thought, the heavier his chest became. Jihyeon let out a sigh and headed home for now. There was still plenty of work left to do. To finish it quickly, he sped back through the night sky.

  Seok-young tapped away at his keyboard. Based on the data Jihyeon provided, he organized the events of the day. He thought he had a few peaceful days, but today, work had exploded.

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  Paper cups were stacked high on his desk. The only thing offering him solace was the bitter sweetness of vending machine coffee.

  The sound of typing continued. As always, the materials Jihyeon sent reached the very essence of the incidents. Reading them alone was enough to understand everything.

  But today, the content was much heavier than usual. Seok-young's fingers on the keyboard gradually slowed until, at some point, they stopped completely.

  It was because of the common characteristic shared by those who had rampaged today.

  Forced implantation, and terrorism.

  Though the motive was unknown, these people were scapegoats and victims. Even though many had died or been injured and countless things had been destroyed because of them, it was impossible to hold them accountable.

  If they had bought the Tools of their own will and crossed the line by overusing that power, the police would have charged them.

  But what should be done in the case of forced implantation? Their will had vanished. Their bodies were merely terminals controlled by the Tools. It was no different from someone hitting the person next to them while asleep.

  If punishment were to be dealt, it should be to those who made them this way. But who could be held responsible?

  Seok-young finally stood up. If indoor smoking were allowed, and if he were a smoker, the entire room would have been filled with smoke long ago. It was suffocating.

  The police wanted to find those committing crimes through Tools and make them pay the price. But now, it felt as though they were chasing a mirage in the air. They couldn't catch the ones they really needed to catch and were only busy cleaning up the accidents.

  The media would surely tear them apart and enjoy it. But he could offer no excuse. In the end, they had failed in their mission. That fact crushed Seok-young. A sigh escaped him involuntarily.

  His phone rang.

  Seok-young reflexively picked up the phone and fell silent once more. Breaking news about the number of people who died in this incident was being updated. But that wasn't all.

  Unable to endure the rising numbers any longer, Seok-young eventually slumped down. Then, as if he could no longer hold it in, he began to sob.

  He hadn't expected something like this to happen. He hadn't imagined people would meet such untimely deaths in this manner.

  Of course, they weren't gods. They weren't omnipotent beings. Nevertheless, they were simply powerless in the face of a malice they didn't understand.

  Seok-young thought it was a relief that no one else was around. He didn't want to show his weakness to others.

  After pouring out his emotions in tears for a while, Seok-young managed to stand up. He still had work to do. To ease this guilt, he ultimately had to catch the true culprit. To do what needed to be done for that goal, Seok-young began organizing the data once again and continued his work.

  A new hideout.

  From here, the Loan Shark would start his business anew. While working in the city was best, there was no reason to take unnecessary risks. He wanted to conduct his business as safely as possible.

  Of course, it would be impossible to move with the same mobility and respond as cleverly as he did inside the city. But it was better to go the long way, even if it meant accepting that level of loss. Avoiding a situation where everything was ruined by unnecessary greed was his top priority.

  "I have been waiting for you."

  As the Loan Shark got out of the car and went inside, the Salesman was already there waiting. As if to hide his identity, the Salesman was wearing a large coat, a fedora, sunglasses, and a mask. It seemed he had just finished working.

  The Salesman's performance today was truly remarkable. No one else could have destroyed the city to this extent. Of course, those who rampaged were forced into sales and received scars that would never vanish, but neither the Loan Shark nor the Salesman cared about such things.

  As always, the important thing was their own profit, not the loss of others.

  "Good job. Thanks to you, we were able to come here without any interference."

  The Loan Shark spoke and laughed. Behind him, subordinates who had lost their sense of self began to unload the luggage with mechanical haste. Watching them, the Salesman let out a short sigh.

  "Is this really okay?"

  The Salesman asked cautiously. It was impossible to tell the Salesman's gender from the voice alone. The mask the Salesman wore was equipped with a voice modulator, perfectly hiding their identity.

  "It's fine. This is enough. Besides, we've advertised various abilities, so the future will be fun. It's going to get busier, so be prepared for some hard work."

  The Loan Shark spoke and laughed. The Salesman's eyes, looking at the Loan Shark, were somehow hollow, but the sunglasses completely hid that gaze.

  "Don't worry about your younger brother. I'm looking for a cure. I didn't know he'd end up like that either. Don't worry too much."

  The Loan Shark spoke nonchalantly. But it was a false hope. How many times had he said those words? And was there really a possibility?

  The Salesman didn't know. Yet, they felt pathetic for having no choice but to cling to that hope. But there was no other way. The Loan Shark's command could kill their only younger brother at any time.

  As the Loan Shark said, as long as he didn't die, there was a chance. But if he died, everything was over. So for now, they had to follow his words so that the Loan Shark wouldn't act on a whim.

  Their new hideout didn't look too bad on the surface. They would likely receive the Tool supply from here from now on. The space, much larger than before, would surely influence the Loan Shark's subsidiary businesses as well.

  "How long are you going to stand there? Take off your clothes and help out."

  The move wasn't finished yet. The Loan Shark spoke and began moving luggage himself. To start working from now on, there were many things to set up. Following his words, the Salesman also took off their coat to move luggage.

  As the coat came off, the Salesman's gender was revealed. Although she had tried her best to hide it, it was impossible to conceal that the Salesman was a woman.

  However, the Salesman didn't care about such things. Her gender wasn't important anyway. She would continue to work for the Loan Shark, hiding herself using a Tool that deceived CCTVs, selling Tools, or forcibly implanting them.

  Her own will was nowhere to be found. She simply did as she was told. Inside the mask that hid her face, she hid even her emotions and helped with the move.